


Four Point Compass

by Valkiriana



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: All of them are togeteher, Alternate Universe - Royalty, At the same time, Falling In Love, Historically Ambiguous, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, M/M, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamory, Romance, and crosses, and squares, at some point, but it's not explicit and non triggering, its whatever at this point, somehow sexual without a drop of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkiriana/pseuds/Valkiriana
Summary: Inside the walls of the court, whispers are endless. But there’s one that resonates the louder. Rumour has it, Park Seonghwa’s heart will never belong to a lady.(Previously known as Togetherness)
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Park Seonghwa, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa, Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86





	Four Point Compass

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very aware i'm romanticizing possesive relationships in this one. 
> 
> Dear reader, if you're treated like an object in real life, please break free from your emotional bonds and get yourself someone better. That said, allow me to indulge in my fictional possesive relationships that don't harm a soul
> 
> Will I ever stop writing historically ambiguous fanfics? Only time will tell. (No)
> 
> I've written this entire thing listening to Candy from Baekhyun, which has absolutely nothing to do with this kind of story. So if the vibe is weird, you'll have to excuse me. Feel free to kindly point out if I wrote 'candy' somewhere in here by mistake. God knows I've done worse.

It is a well known fact that Prince Park Seonghwa is the epitome of regality and elegance. His name is praised across the land, for his kindness and commitment to his people, and his beauty is the topic of many discussions throughout the courts all over the continent. For Park Seonghwa is the most desired bachelor there could ever be. Graceful, eloquent, gentle and well mannered, he is just the perfect picture of what a prince should be. Even more so, his highness is also well known for his just judgements, his skilled sparring abilities and his firm convictions, making him the most desirable heir for the crown of his land.

He’s the dream of every maiden and the very envy of all the men his age.

So it comes as no surprise when Seonghwa takes his time to marry. After all, he’s strong, young and healthy, and the King still thrives with certain youthness that allows the Prince a little longer of his bachelor freedom.

But the years pass, and the Prince shows no sign of courtship, nor interest whatsoever in the young, honourable beauties that cross his path.

Naturally, the court burns with gossip.

Inside of the walls of the court, whispers are endless. But there’s one that resonates the louder. Rumour has it, Park Seonghwa’s heart will never belong to a lady.

It’s a scandal.

But Seonghwa pays it no mind. He has much to do, much to think about and focus on to care about the words of the bored nobility. Because as a prince, duty follows him everywhere, and beyond. His mind can never find peace, can never stop turning around over and over and then again, thinking about all he has to do, all that is expected of him. It’s asphyxiating, and he can barely breathe sometimes at night, feeling weak and unfit to be a king, a prince even, if the crushing responsibility of royalty turns him into such a pitiful young boy, who cries himself to sleep like a child who misses his mother.

Which is why having Wooyoung, San and Yeosang, his ever faithful and loyal friends, lovers, companions, is but a blessing for which Seonghwa will never learn how to be grateful enough.

And yet, somehow, having them sometimes feels like they’re his very own form of torture, specifically designed for him, and him only. For they know exactly where to twist, to press, to prod for Seonghwa to absolutely lose his mind to them, for them. The sweetest form of excruciating torture that seems to be both made from heaven and hell.

Because Seonghwa loves them.

He loves them more than a prince should love a subject, more than a friend should love a friend, and way more than a man should possibly love another man. Seonghwa loves each and every one of them like they belong to him in body and soul, like they’re a heavenly present, and his own personal hellish punishment that he oughts to put up with to free himself from the burdens of his sins. He loves all of them equally, none more than the other, and yet, each of them are loved so differently that Seonghwa could not begin to compare his utter adoration for each.

And how could it be? How could he love, not only a man, but three of them, three of his friends, altogether, at the very same time? And yet how could he not, when loving them is the easiest thing he’s ever done, the most natural thing he’s ever felt, beyond breathing?

Seonghwa could not even accurately say when it all began.

Yeosang has always been with him. He was brought to educate himself in the castle along the Prince when he was still of tender age. The son of the most reputable noble family, trustworthy advisors of Seonghwa’s own for more generations than he cares to remember.  
Kang Yeosang was like a precious present to the young lonely prince, who had four nurses in charge of his care, and yet no friend he could play with.

Yeosang, sweet innocent Yeosang, who was ever so polite and could never think ill of anyone around him, even if they proved to be enemies. With the voice of an angel, he would often delight the court with his dedicated songs that moved people to tears. Seonghwa had the urge to protect him the second he laid eyes on him. And so he did, taking him under his wing and helping him navigate the labyrinth like passages of his castle. And Yeosang, tender Yeosang would follow, always eager to learn and explore as long as Seonghwa was with him, especially more so, if he would hold his hand and guide him through. Needless to say, the young prince’s heart would always take the hit.

Kang Yeosang was - is- a real treasure that Seonghwa silently claimed for himself one day. Was it during one of their language lessons? When they were learning to ride and hunt? Maybe when they sneaked out in the gardens and the prince would demand the other to sing for him. Please, just one more time, he would add, gently, because music was part of Seonghwa’s soul. Yeosang would, good humouredly, indulge him, and then he’d spend the whole afternoon tangling flowers in Seonghwa’s head.

“You’re so handsome, your majesty.” Yeosang would play, when he was feeling particularly comfortable, the prince’s head on his lap.

“Yeosang.”

“The daughter of that new ambassador wouldn’t stop looking at you today.”

“Mhm.”

“She’s pretty.” Yeosang would insist, stubbornly.

“Not more than you, now hush, I want to nap.” And that was enough to have Yeosang blushing into staying quiet even for hours if Seonghwa allowed it.

Young Seonghwa was sure his infatuation would eventually snap. It’s normal, he would think, he’s my only friend.

But then Yeosang would go away for the summers, leaving him alone in the heated, and somehow cold marble halls of his enormous castle, for his parents and his servants company was no company at all. Yeosang would have out to visit his childhood friend, his best friend Jung Wooyoung.

Damned Jung Wooyoung, the very bane of his existence up until his middle teenage years. Who was he anyways? The mere son of a Duke? No competition for a Prince such as himself.

Seonghwa would burn with jealousy once Yeosang was finally back, eager to retell all the amazing stories of him and his beloved Jung Wooyoung, the way they would bath in the river, naked, and then ride together at sunset. How dared he? How dared he ride with another? How dared Yeosang have space for anyone else in his heart but his prince?

It took him a few more years to understand why Yeosang loved his friend so very much. And it’s that Jung Wooyoung has always been a force of nature. Charming, beautiful, confident and very full of himself, he always knows exactly what to do, and precisely what to say to wrap everyone around his finger. An excellent conversationalist if he says so himself, who from day one in the court broke ladies’ hearts left and right, with sweet, whispered nothings and infamous praises that he would give deliberately, carefree and uncaring of the consequences.

He got in trouble way more than once for that. But charming as he is, he has always managed to find himself out of it. After all, who can resist the words of a seducer such as him?

The day Jung Wooyoung arrived to court, is a day Seonghwa will never forget. Not because anything extraordinary happened said day, but because that day Seonghwa learnt the true definition of desire.

He felt it, deep inside of him, so earth-shattering that he instantly dismissed his jealousy for Yeosang as the reason why he felt so utterly and completely angry.

Because to him, Wooyoung was nothing but trouble. Careless, loud, uncaring of rules and duties, a proper libertine unfitting of a respectable court such as his.

But alas, he was the son of a Duke, and as such, his place in court was granted beyond Seonghwa’s wishes - or tantrums, as the King told him when Seonghwa requested he be removed. Immediately.

Seonghwa’s body burned. It burned with the desire to punish Wooyoung for his loudness, his eye twitched when he would arrive late for a lesson and then good-naturedly proceed to charm his way out of it with smiles and touches (A disgrace!). His body burned with the desire to put him in his place. Especially when the little menace indulged himself in writing the most scandalous pieces of erotic poetry, then dare to spread it secretly as if he was offering forbidden goods youngsters would ashamedly acquire in secluded halls, behind closed doors.

The prince particularly hated when Wooyoung would carelessly pour wine in everyone’s glasses but Seonghwa’s own, and then would parade himself in front of his eyes at an event, with an arm across Yeosang’s shoulders, then slowly, ever so slightly, lower his arm until it touched the low of his friend’s back, around his hips. And then, with the fake innocence of a naughty child, he would look over his shoulder, right at Seonghwa, and smirk.

Sometimes, when he finds himself in military meetings, his mind will kindly replay that smirk to him, and he will have to excuse himself, before he makes a joke of himself in public forever.

Seonghwa thinks that was what sealed the deal for him, what made him forget about a future marriage with a girl, or the fact that people would, most certainly, talk. Because if before that all the prince wanted to do was teach that boy a lesson with fervent desire, from then on all Seonghwa wanted to do was grab him by his arm, push him into his room and then against the wall, only to kiss the stupid words out of his stupidly pretty mouth. Seonghwa wanted to make him moan, loud and clear for all the castle to know the prince was giving Jung Wooyoung the punishment he deserved. And then, after Wooyoung had begged for forgiveness, he wanted to hold him tightly, sweetly share kisses like secrets under the covers and make him smell of his cologne for days.

And one day, after Wooyoung got reckless enough to call the prince by his very own name in front of Yeosang, Seonghwa finally did push him into the library and had his way with him.

“Your highness, my prince, please, I beg you-” Yeosang pleaded at the other’s anger, as Seonghwa harshly took Wooyoung by his elbow, walking away.

Wooyoung, the brat, laughed and blew Yeosang a reassuring kiss, smiling from ear to ear as he was dragged behind closed doors.

“Oh, my dear prince.” He dramatically sighed as soon as Seonghwa pressed him against the door. “Whatever could I do to earn your forgiveness?”

“Shut up, for starters.”

It ended up being way different than what Seonghwa would fantasize in his mind, because Wooyoung, surprisingly, ended up being strangely nervous and hesitant during their encounter, all coyness and defiance crumbling the more the prince undressed him. Seonghwa finally understood what was going on. It took Wooyoung weeks, but he finally managed to get what he so desperately wanted: The prince’s attention. Jung Wooyoung was sweet and gentle and pliant when one knew how to handle him, when one’s entire attention was directed to him, when one could find the right words to make him shut up and feel.

Brat. Pretty. Good. Precious.

Mine.

Wooyoung’s moans did end up being just like Seonghwa had imagined, and he made sure to let, at least some, hear.

If Yeosang cared, he didn’t say a thing, content to have his friend back in one piece.

They found a way to coexist after that. Wooyoung toned down his flirting - because that was what he had been doing all that time, even if Seonghwa didn’t know it - and Seonghwa made sure to offer him his undivided attention, even in public, when Wooyoung would get so obviously needy. He was gentler, too, once he understood Wooyoung was way more delicate than he let out.

Jung Wooyoung is the prince’s favourite, people would whisper, and said brat would beam, from ear to ear as he clinged onto his arm.

It was around that time when Seonghwa’s responsibilities increased.

He was required to participate in meetings and give his opinion to generals and advisors. As a prince, it was of highly importance that he understood the state’s affairs, his father would say, and then he would send him on trips to understand the routes of commerce, then visit the most noble household for the purposes of diplomacy and gain a deeper understanding of the distribution of their land and borders.

It was also around that time that his insomnia began, the weight of his future heavily lodged in his chest and not allowing him to breathe.

The prince desperately asked for Yeosang after one particularly bad nightmare, and the guards made a quick - and subtle- work of bringing him to his room in the middle of the night.

His sweet, kind Yeosang, whom he hadn’t seen in weeks, who missed him so very much yet complained never, in order not to deepen his burden.

Yeosang who always needed others to hold him, held his prince with a gentleness and reassurance Seonghwa had never had in his life, and uttered sweet words of comfort without asking a single question. He understood him, he always had, and Seonghwa discovered a part of his friend, his first love, he had never known before.

Yeosang was pure contradiction, he realized. Delicate yet strong, distracted but highly observant, innocent but with a deep comprehension of men and women, gentle but determined, feminine but masculine all mixed in the beautiful unity that was him.

It was Yeosang the one who, despite never having kissed a soul, laid his highness back in his bed and undressed him slowly, the one who pressed inexperienced but decisive lips on his body and explored on his own the way he had never been able without Seonghwa to guide him. Yeosang gave him back all the reverence the prince had given him ever since they met, in just one night.

The next morning, Yeosang was back to tinted cheeks and bashful smiles, scurrying away every time Seonghwa wanted him more.

No one got to know that Yeosang visited the prince’s chambers at an ungodly hour. Except for Wooyoung. And if he minded, he didn’t say a thing.

Wooyoung continued to seek the prince’s attention just like he had done all this time, with the exception that his flirty, coy attitude with others was exponentially more subdued and mostly directed to Yeosang.

Somehow they found themselves in a harmonious cycle of pulling and pushing for Yeosang’s attention, lending and sharing him in a silent, peaceful treaty they had crafted for themselves to avoid any conflict.

They both knew Seonghwa, as a prince, could claim him for himself and manage to push Wooyoung forever. It was implied that he cared for Wooyoung just as much and thus, silent kisses and shared touches, things were easy and balanced for a while.

Until Choi San arrived.

The Choi family weren’t well received in the Park court. They were well known merchants who had made a fortune for themselves by taking domain of a notable commerce route that had made them richer than most noble families. It wasn’t taken lightly when the King decided to grant them a title and lands. They bought their title, some would say during their leisure time, they might as well have forged it.

So it came as no surprise when young Choi San, the youngest of the family, who had been brought up to occupy a religious post, appeared to be shy and quiet, mostly introverted. He was said to spend most of his free time reading sacred books and avoiding the crowds.  
He wasn’t even interested in befriending Seonghwa himself, if for the benefits of a friendship with a prince, and instead, would bashfully look away whenever Seonghwa managed to catch his burning stare on him.

But San, obedient and devoted, turned out to be a decidedly deadly creature, when one afternoon of idle sparring showed everyone that small and slim as he was, Choi San was nothing but a warrior.

That was the first time San looked at him and maintained visual contact, sweaty, panting, after beating his fourth opponent straight. Another being had taken over him, as if by witchcraft.

It shook the prince to his very core, and he found himself thinking about it even when Yeosang sweetly kissed him, concealed by the bushes in the gardens, or when Wooyoung would touch him in public, under the table until he trembled.

But Seonghwa was far from the only one who obsessively would search for San in every event or space he could be hiding in.

Jung Wooyoung latched onto him the very same night he was introduced to them.

“He’s just really cute” he defended himself with a small pout when Yeosang gently scolded him for insistently trying to get him to talk to him for a whole evening. San seemed way too polite to shake him off himself, and Seonghwa would observe them from his place next to his father, trying to understand exactly what he felt for the fact that Wooyoung had found a shiny new toy to play.

“Just don’t scare the poor boy, please.” Seonghwa sighed tiredly, and gently caressed Wooyoung’s soft cheek before asking Yeosang to follow him to his room for the night.

But much to his surprise, San was far from the prey in their developing relationship, and instead, a few weeks later and Seonghwa was convinced that he was, instead, a predator.

More often than not, Seonghwa would wonder who was the prince between the two, when San would stare at him like he belonged to him.

But nothing prepared him to be witness of the total change that overtook Wooyoung in a question of days.

Jung Wooyoung fell head over heels for this boy, hard, fast, like in a forbidden romance novel. He lived for San, who would warmly smile first, dimples catching the light cutely, and then stare at you like you were of his ownership, or a particularly delicious meal offered to him on a silver plate.

Because Choi San was possessive. The moment he opened up to Wooyoung, he claimed him as his own and never let go. And Wooyoung? Wooyoung was overjoyed. He had never been this at peace, with someone’s undivided attention on him, constant, irrevocable.

Wooyoung’s easy flirting, his seductive personality changed into a slightly more demure behaviour when San was around, because he couldn’t talk, couldn’t focus at all with San’s burning eyes on him, his hands that would never stray too far from Wooyoung’s body, his clothes, his things. Did he have eyes for another? For a long time, it seemed that both Seonghwa and Yeosang had lost Wooyoung forever.

“He says he’ll spend the summer in the Choi household.” Yeosang mumbled, massaging Seonghwa’s shoulders as they sat in front of a lake. Seonghwa stopped his hands and guided him to sit on his lap, kissing his shoulder.

“We can spend it in my mother’s summer palace. She’ll be delighted, she adores you.”

“But, my prince-”

“I’ll find a way, I promise I won’t leave you alone this time.”

It was lonely without him. Especially for Yeosang, who more often than not, was left alone due to Seonghwa’s princely duties- despite all the promises.

But fortunately for them both, the others’ burning passion mellowed out after who knows how many times they would go for a stroll in the woods, only to come out late, just before the curfew, with crooked clothes and suspicious looking bruises they only bothered hiding from the older people.

“You’re shameless.” Seonghwa spat with certain disgust, extreme disapproval, by the third time he saw the hickeys all over the column of Wooyoung's neck. Yeosang fidgeted almost imperceptibly at the sight of him, a mix of curiosity and fear to know what his friend was up to in the woods, what could possibly mark him up so badly and yet make him feel so good as he claimed.

“Then you shouldn’t hear this next part, your highness.” Wooyoung would often smirk, loving the reactions he got from them.

He particularly enjoyed leaning into Yeosang’s personal space, press his lips on his ear and whisper every dirty little detail of their improper encounters in the woods, until Yeosang let out a faint little yelp of shame and jumped away. All of it in front of Seonghwa to see, to barely hear and make him burn - of jealousy, desire, envy, who knew anymore.

It took some time, but Wooyoung finally came back to them, dragging San with him. Of course.

Seonghwa, busy as he was, and wary of what San made him feel, took longer to trust him. But his sweet Yeosang was way less scared of him. Or perhaps, way more scared of losing Wooyoung again if he didn’t.

San seemed leery of interacting with anyone that wasn’t his precious Wooyoung.

But then Yeosang sang.

And Seonghwa swears, he can still remember the way San’s body went slack, and his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

It took him no time at all before he started cherishing Yeosang with a strength that rivaled Seonghwa’s own.

Yeosang was fascinated- albeit a bit intimidated- with San. And perceptive as he was, San made sure to do all he possibly could to make Yeosang comfortable around him, so much so, that when Wooyoung felt left out, he would run into Seonghwa’s arms and whine to him as if he wasn’t a prince with far more important matters to attend to. Wooyoung just didn’t care as long as he was coddled (and, to be fair, neither did Seonghwa).

San was far more gentle with Yeosang than with Wooyoung, as if he knew the poor boy needed a far softer touch. He would baby Yeosang like no other.

“You sing like an angel. Yeosang, I believe you might as well be one, I’m blessed just to be in your presence.”

“Choi San!” Yeosang would giggle and let San pass his arms around his shoulders to whisper easy words of affection against his hairline.

And when Wooyoung finally got over himself, he joined in the fun.

They were a menace together. Especially when Kang Yeosang was involved.

Many times Seonghwa saw the way they would guilt Yeosang into skipping his practise to spend time with them.

“Do you not like us anymore?”

“You’re our favourite, you look so beautiful today in this colour.”

“Why don’t you come with us? The day is so beautiful. Just come, come spend time in the gardens.”

And so, they would lead him through the tall trees. They would find a pretty hidden spot full of flowers and then they would ask him to sing. They would coo at him and shower him in praises and flowers until poor Yeosang was so overwhelmed he almost cried. It was like their little, secret sadist game, because loving Yeosang was oh so easy, and being slightly cruel to him was easier still.

Seonghwa would quickly intervene, when he could, and tug Yeosang away, detangle the flowers from his hair one by one while he scolded them, and Wooyoung would huff, the brat, before Seonghwa would silence him with one warning look.

They would never apologize, because apologizing meant more coddling, more attention, more love, and Yeosang’s depleted heart couldn’t take it.

If the prince thinks about it, he realizes how predictable it was that he would fall for Choi San too. After all, isn’t it natural for one to love those who our loved ones love?

It was, indeed, predictable. But he didn’t know it back then. Back then he found himself in a hot, spring afternoon, sparring in the training grounds. He had to keep in shape after all, and sharpen his skills. If he was ever to lead men into battle, it was only fair that he was fit for it.  
Choi San, like many other, showed up to see him practise and when Seonghwa was done making a show of his movements, he politely bowed to him and offered himself as a humble opponent. It was impressive, to have San directly address him when he would rarely speak in public. Seonghwa, amused -eager- pleasantly agreed and even handed San a wooden sword as he geared up.

It took the boy four moves to make the prince lose his balance and fall on the ground, defeated, for all to see.

And then again.

And again.

Because Seonghwa was as well mannered as he was stubborn.

Choi San didn’t let him win, out of courtesy -or pity- not even one.

Needless to say, the reputation he earned for that afternoon was so bad that Wooyoung begged him, almost on his knees, not to involve his father in the issue and subsequently have San removed from the court. He certainly deserved it. But how could he ever do anything to make his beloved Wooyoung so, so miserable?

Yeosang said nothing as his lip trembled while he cleaned his prince’s wounds. He was far too sensitive when his loved ones where involved.

Seonghwa wasn’t one to use his status to overpower a soul. He did have a livid pride, though, and an ego with more bruises than his body, with an utterly shattered sense of masculinity.

So he called San to his room that night, enraged, furious, completely senseless with the need to put him back in his place. He was a peasant not more than mere months ago, how dared he humiliate him, a prince, in public like that?  
The things he said that night resonate like ghosts in his head up until today. Yet San, whose braveness and boldness - recklessness, were those of a lowlife -or a hero- never once lowered his eyes, or shrunk into himself as he was scolded by his prince, and soon to be monarch, who could have his head on a plate if he wanted it so.

San took the yelling of his life with a grace and solemnity that managed to strangely soothe Seonghwa into a state of defeat, once he had yelled his voice out. He realized he let out months of stress and responsibilities in mere minutes, and San had been kind enough to let him scream about all his struggles without making a single face at him.

That night Seonghwa opened up to San without even realizing he had. Through anger and frustration and tears.

San only moved once his prince was defeatedly sitting in his bed. He knelt, gently putting his hands on top of Seonghwa’s thighs and looking up at him with earnest eyes yearning to connect with him, to understand him, willing to withstand anything so long as Seonghwa accepted to trust him instead.

“Your highness, let me make it up to you.” San requested, voice so soft and sincere, the prince could think of nothing but to accept.

So he did.

Seonghwa opened up to San like he never had for anyone else. He showed himself more vulnerable than he even dared to do with Yeosang, with whom he could never let his guard totally down with the urge to protect him. San took all his harshness, all his resentment and responded with gentleness and thoughtfulness. Not once did he speak, but he still seemed to speak. Trust me, please trust me, give yourself to me, I want all of you, even the ugliest parts of yourself, that which you dare not speak of, show them to me, I’m deserving if you wish me to. And how could Seonghwa deny such pleads?

The next time they fought in practice, Seonghwa won. And then again, and then once more.

Never once did San make him be vulnerable in public, once Seonghwa was his behind closed doors.

But San is his in return. Just like Wooyoung. And Yeosang.

They all belong to him and he belongs to them.

They share each other willingly, lovingly, eagerly. Because they love their togetherness more than they love each other. If one was to leave, if one was to die, Seonghwa is sure none of them could withstand it, their hearts withered forever.

After this many years, he has stopped trying to understand what they are, what they mean to each other. He stopped suffering at night in Yeosang’s arms, with Wooyoung’s kisses, San’s hands all over, whether this is wrong, or it’s right.

With them, he can hardly even think.

All he needs to do is close his eyes and feel, as he’s overtaken by them and the world just disappears around him. There’s nothing under him but them, holding him, making sure they don’t ever let him fall, because he’s theirs before he’s a prince, he’s theirs before he’s a man. He’s theirs.

Seonghwa’s heart is at peace knowing that unlike the world, everyone around them, his beautiful, perfect boys won’t ask for more than he can give and, if something were to happen to him, they’ll always have each other.

So who cares if he’s not enough for the world? Who cares if expectations are too high?

Seonghwa knows the day he steps up to the throne, married or not, ready or not, grieving, terrified, determined, they’ll be right there, next to him, helping him take each step, whispering sweet words of encouragement, letting out tears of pride as they see as their love becomes the king they’ll always known him to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this mess<3 If you liked this, please leave me a comment!


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